


Luna Amplexus

by Shadededdaxion



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood, Eldrazi, Eldritch Moon, Excessive Use of OCs, F/F, Innistrad, Minor Character Death, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadededdaxion/pseuds/Shadededdaxion
Summary: An eldritch shadow crosses the moon and howls echo through the darkest corners of the Ulvenwald. There is a darkness coming, one Arlinn Kord has yet to truly comprehend, one that may swallow her world whole.The werewolf planeswalker – first of her kind, student, daughter, former Archmage, fighter, lover, matriarch, warrior, guardian – is far from unprepared for the future. Hundreds of Arlinn's kin are under her protection, living in relative peace in a series of underground communes throughout Innistrad. But as angels descend and monsters manifest from sublime otherworldly darkness, both Arlinn and her ward find themselves caught in the midst of a cataclysm that may tear the plane apart.Away from the Gatewatch, far from the conflicts of Nahiri and Sorin, Lilliana's scheming and Jace's struggle to maintain sanity, another story unfolds, with Arlinn at its center.





	

Arlinn could still taste the angel’s blood on her lips. It burned like liquid fire, scorching a hot path down her throat.

Like the small glass of whiskey Rembert had given her once, years ago. He had chuckled at her sour expression as she stomached the vile flavor, and laughed even harder when she asked for a second cup. He said no, of course, she was too young to be drinking. This though, this ichor was far sweeter, far more intoxicating, and far more forbidden.

Rembert stood in front of her now, blood running down his face from three horizontal scratches the werewolf had inflicted on him.

His blood was on Arlinn’s claws.

His words echoed through her mind, through the veil of feral hunger that seemed to fill every fiber of her being. “Monster.”

She had tried to change her fate, and she had failed. Arlinn had lost the only thing that mattered, the only thing that she couldn’t afford to lose: control.

And now the ground around her was littered in corpses. Some, surely the bodies of allies, friends even. At least two were angels.

And her mentor, wounded by her hand, lifted his holy blade to smite her.

She did not move.

The only thing left he could offer her, the only thing she deserved, was a quick death. And Rembert was more than ready to deliver it.

Arlinn almost wished he hesitated. Almost wanted him to shake, to tremble, to show any sign of weakness.

But he did not. He was not like her. He was not weak.

“May Avacyn forgive you.”

And the world fell away.

Arlinn was plunged into darkness, something suffocating and infinite. She tried to pull in air, but there was no air to speak of, nor even lungs to breathe with. Numb, deaf, blind and alone.

Death. It must be. There could be no other explanation.

For the first time in her memory, Arlinn let go. No more sigils, no more prayers, no more struggling against her curse. Her suffering was over. She could rest now, drifting endlessly through this place. Finally at peace.

No.

**No.**

All at once, there was existence. Sight, color, breath, taste and smell, bright to the point of blinding. A rush of experience so intense it overwhelmed her senses. And then, once more, she slipped into the dark.

 

When she awoke, Arlinn felt pain first. A dull ache in her abdomen, stiff and sharp, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She winced, opening her eyes to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. Arlinn made her way uneasily to a sitting position. She was in a bed, underneath a blanket of a soft, unfamiliar fur. Bed, walls and ceiling were all wooden, though wood of a kind she had never seen before. Its smell was omnipresent and almost indescribable, rich and oaky but tinged with the fresh snap of pine. The room was plain, mostly bare, with only a desk, a window and the bed. Both pieces of furniture seemed to fuse with the floor, as if the room itself had grown them out of itself.

She glanced down at herself, raising an eyebrow at the plain, pale grey garments she was dressed in, nothing at all like the robes she had worn when she...

_“Monster.”_

Arlinn struck the memory from her mind, no, it did her no good to dwell on past transgressions, better to look to the present and future, find her bearings. If Rembert had taught her anything, it was that. She stood, holding her injured side and bracing herself on bed and desk in turn, and made her way to the window.

It took her a long time to truly comprehend the sight that lay before her.

Arlinn was in a room built into the side of a massive tree, so big she could not see the ground below beneath the sea of white clouds that stretched seemingly infinite in every direction. Countless birds – wait, no, not birds, but tiny flying...things, not organic but clockwork, like the occasional metal trinkets she’d seen back home – either hovered or flew at blinding speeds across the sky. Carriages of sorts, made of metal and pulled not by horses but by massive hummingbirds, moved around and between each other in some strange bustling midair dance. She felt sick to her stomach at the sight, so alien and strange, turning away from the view and sinking to her knees.

"Ah, you're awake then?" Arlinn whirled at the sound of the voice, the pain in her side suddenly flaring to the point of agony. She barely had a moment to acknowledge the sight of a floating male figure, partly transparent and glowing a pale shade of blue, before doubling over, head spinning.

"Who-"

"Shush now." His tone, stern but caring, calmed her nerves. She felt an ethereal pressure on her shoulders, helping her to her feet. "I'll answer your questions in time. You need rest. And food and water, I'd assume." He helped Arlinn back to the bed, which she gladly collapsed back into. She felt more than saw – her vision still blurred and swam – the being leave her side, and Arlinn let slumber claim her again.

 

"My name is Zen." said the spirit, who sat on the foot of the bed in front of Arlinn. Well, more hovered than sat, but it resembled sitting enough to be a suitable mimicry.

Arlinn took a bite of the strange fruit he had brought her, a bright blue and shiny orb that tasted almost like an apple. "Arlinn Kord." she said, "Pleasure. Now, Zen, where exactly am I?"

"My home," he replied, then added as almost an afterthought, "Valsatva district."

More unfamiliarities, glorious. "Where on Innistrad is Valsatva, exactly?"

Zen chuckled, apparently amused by her question. "Well, that's the thing, Arlinn. We're not on Innistrad."

Arlinn blinked. "You are going to need to run that by me one more time."

He hummed in thought, floating a few inches into the air as his focus drifted. "It's going to be a difficult concept to explain simply, but...you are, I assume, from a world called Innistrad? But this world, that you are now on, is Kyneth, not Innistrad. You have traveled from your world to this one."

Arlinn's brain spun with questions, stumbling over itself trying to decipher Zen's statement. She could only manage one query: "How?"

"Well, if I may hazard a guess, I'd say you were probably exposed to some sort of high-stress situation. Life and death, perhaps."

The steel of Rembert's blade flashed through Arlinn's mind. Her fingers closed tightly around the blue sphere.

"And that, in turn, triggered you to tap into capabilities that had previously lain dormant within you. The power to travel between worlds, for example."

The fruit exploded in Arlinn's grip, splattering her, the bed and the wall in chunks of foodstuff. She and Zen both jumped, the spirit letting out a loud belt of suprised laughter. "Sorry." she mumbled, shaking the juice off her hand.

He waved his hand dismissively, still smiling. "No worries."

She paused, thinking over what he had told her. "The power to travel between worlds. Is that common?"

Zen chuckled. "For a few. Myself included.” He floated off the bed and into a standing position. “Existence is larger than you can possibly comprehend. A near-infinite number of unique worlds – planes – each floating through the endless void of the multiverse. Normally, these realms stay separate, fully disconnected from each other. There are no conventional methods to move from one to another, at least none so far discovered. But there are nevertheless those who can travel between them. There are a thousand words in a thousand languages to describe these people, but the one most colloquially accepted is ‘planeswalker.’”

Arlinn took a moment to consider this, then picked up a small fragment of the fruit and popped it in her mouth. "And you think I possess this power? That I’m a planeswalker?”

He shrugged. “It’s entirely possible you aren’t. But like I said, I’ve never heard of anyone besides a planeswalker ever traveling from one plane to another. But you’d know better than I do. How did you find your way to Kyneth, Arlinn?”

How was she supposed to answer that question? Well Zen, I transformed into a huge wolf, slaughtered two angels and a large number of my friends, and scarred my mentor before he tried to murder me. “It’s like you said. Life and death.”

 

It was days before Arlinn’s headache left her. The scar on her side still ached occasionally but she no longer needed the bandages and could move plenty well without Zen’s help, though he still offered it with frustrating regularity.

Besides for the bedroom and washroom, Zen’s home was a single modest room, acting as kitchen, dining area and study all in one. Though the “kitchen” area was honestly just a small pantry tucked next to his desk. It was currently full of a wide variety of strange foodstuff, though Arlinn was positive that was only because of her presence. The dead needed little nourishment, after all.  
His house was honestly a bit of a mess. The shelf taking up an entire wall space, Zen’s desk and even the lone table was covered with wooden tubes, each one containing a star chart. He had yet to answer any of her questions about them. Or any of her questions about Kyneth. Or any of her questions about planeswalkers. Or any of her questions about anything, besides for a dismissive “in due time.”

“I’m pretty sure now is due time, spirit.” She sat at the kitchen table, watching Zen with a mixture of spite and boredom as he meticulously examined one of his charts.

He didn’t even look up at her. “Depends on your question.”

Arlinn repressed a sudden and overwhelming urge to strangle him. Mostly because the effort would be entirely wasted. “If I really am a planeswalker, like you think I am–”

“You are a planeswalker. There’s no doubt in my mind at this point.”

If it came down to it, she could probably craft some sort of impromptu staff out of a chair leg and exorcise him. Heavens knows she wanted to. “Then I should be able to travel back to Innistrad, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. How?”

Zen rolled up his chart and placed it back in its tube, pulling out another chart and unfolding it, taking his sweet time before responding. “Planeswalkers are capable of incredible things. Not only travel between worlds, but access to powerful magic, and an intrinsic connection to the universe around them. Like any other gift, it requires practice before you can truly access its potential. Right now, I doubt you could return to your home if you wanted to. But in time, you should be able to come and go as you please.”

“In time, huh?” She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t like going back to Innistrad as soon as possible was actually a good idea. She hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms. There was a sour taste in Arlinn’s mouth, a haunting reminder of angelic ichor. It had been nearly a full week since she lost control, but the flavor still lingered on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “You must be in a hurry to return home. I don’t blame you.”

Arlinn shrugged. “Not really. I haven’t a family to speak of and my friends either believe I'm dead or want me killed. I've got all the time in the world."

Zen didn’t look at her, but she could see him falter for just a moment. “Again, I’m sorry.”

"I'm tough, I'll get over it." She tapped her fingers on the wooden table between them.

“Well, at least we’ll have plenty of time to help you get used to your abilities.”

“We?” she asked, chuckling.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, yes. I’ve been planeswalking for a good few hundred years now, and you’ve just started. ”

Arlinn raised an eyebrow. "You want to train me? What's in it for you?"

Zen laughed. "Being a godlike protector of a realm gets lonely at times. It would do me good to spend time around someone else in the same position as myself. Plus, I just enjoy helping others. And you are in need of some help, Arlinn."

"Fair enough, I suppose." She massaged her temples. "Oh Avacyn, it's going to take time for me to get used to this."

He smiled, finally looking up to meet her gaze. "Well, we should probably get started soon then.”

 

They stood on the roof of Zen's home the next morning, a large circular platform surrounded by immense branches and ringed with a waist-high wooden railing. The climb itself hadn't been too bad, just a short trek up a spiral staircase, but the wind outside was more intense than Arlinn had expected. She didn't feel particularly in danger of falling off, but she still braced herself against the floor.

"Planeswalkers have a wide variety of abilities," Zen shouted over the wind, "but the bread and butter of their arsenal is the planeswalk itself. The power to move between planes might be shared between every planeswalker, but mastering it is no small feat. Now, you've already planeswalked once, albeit involuntarily–"

"Let me guess," Arlinn said, "you're going to try to recreate that?"

"Heavens no! If you try to force yourself to planeswalk under stress, who knows where you'll end up! No, until you get a handle on planeswalking at will, I'm going to leave you a path to follow so you don't just wander around the multiverse. One of the skills you're going to learn is how to follow another planeswalker through the Blind Eternities."

"The what?"

"The Blind Eternities. The void between planes, that in-between realm you travel through when planeswalking."

Arlinn's skin chilled as she remembered the darkness during her first walk. "Oh. That."

"Now, if done right, following another planeswalker is much easier that trying to planeswalk yourself. Of course, if they don't want to be followed, it’s an entirely different story, but since I do want us both to end up in the same place, it'll be a synch. When you're ready, I'll depart, and that'll leave behind some sort of...presence. It's difficult to explain, but you'll know it when you see it. Then, you're going to need to walk into that presence – physically walk – and you should be able to planeswalk through it."

"That easy, huh?" Arlinn said, as dryly as could be accomplished while shouting.

Zen rolled his eyes. "Look, just trust me on this. You'll know what to do. It's a natural thing to planeswalkers, it's in your blood. You just have to remind yourself how to do it."

She sighed. This was all beyond her, but she might as well give it a try. "Fine. I'm ready, planeswalk whenever."

He nodded, giving her a small smile before vanishing into thin air. It took Arlinn's mind a moment to really register his absence, but she did sort of notice...a shimmer where Zen had been a moment before. A presence, just like he had described, a distortion in the air. Barely visible, but it made her skin tingle just to look at it. Without a moment further of hesitation, she walked right up to it and stepped through. Immediately, Arlinn felt a force tugging on her, pulling her in a direction she could only describe as "away." And with barely any effort, she followed it. Kyneth disappeared, her every sense once again plunged into the darkness of the Blind Eternities.

If she could feel anything, Arlinn would likely be having a panic attack. But she didn't. And she wasn't. The only experience she could describe was a peacefulness. Silence. Sightlessness. It stripped her of worry, of anxiety, of everything. No curse. No pain. Just silence.

She wouldn't mind staying here forever.

But like before, it wasn't long before Arlinn was hurled back into reality, the tempo of her fast-beating heart pounding on the inside of her chest. The world, whatever world it was, spun around her. There was a burning impulse tearing through her veins, something wild and furious and confined, like an animal struggling against the bars of its cage, reaching a clawed hand through, ready in an instant to rip the guts out of the nearest-

A hand on her shoulder. An ethereal blue form floating in front of her. A calm voice, words incomprehensible. Arlinn swallowed the knot in her throat, her flared senses calming. The curse grumbled within her, but quieted. A wave of lucidity washed over her.

"How was it your second time around?" Zen asked.

"Better than the first, that's for sure." Arlinn replied, placing her hand over his and moving it off her shoulder. "But I still think being buried alive might be a more enjoyable activity."

He laughed. "Well, you won't have to planeswalk again for a good day, at least. I'll tell you this now, it took me months to figure out how to planeswalk on my own, and even longer than that to get used to it. I'll do my best to streamline your learning experience, but it'll be a little while until this feels anywhere close to comfortable."

As he spoke, Arlinn took a moment to examine her surroundings. The two planeswalkers stood in a clearing amidst a sizable amount of foliage, the leaves on the trees around them a deep and beautiful green that seemed almost to glow in the midday sun. For an instant, she could believe she was back in Innistrad. But this was not the Ulvenwald, not the forest of her home. The flowers tipped her off enough to that, some nearly as tall as she was and all of them colorful beyond expression, vibrant and a tad gaudy. Through a gap in the trees, should could barely see the edge of what looked to be some kind of mountain range, far off.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Ergamon." he replied. "Welcome to Truga Jungle, Arlinn."

 

"I'm not much of a fan of this place," Arlinn commented, more to fill the space as they traveled than to actually say something worth stating, "but I can understand why you like it."

"We're not exactly here just to see the sights." Zen said.

"That's easy enough for you to say," she pushed another branch out of her way, wincing as a second smacked her on the back of the neck, "you don't exactly have to trudge through the foliage, spirit."

Zen shrugged, floating sideways through a tree and emerging out the other side. "Fair enough. Advantages of being deceased, I suppose."

"Yeah, about that-"

"No, I'm not going to tell you how I died." Zen interrupted.

She sighed. "Could you at least give me a general idea?"

"Look, Arlinn. We've only known each other for a few hours now."

"Didn't stop you from leaping to make me your protege." Arlinn grumbled.

"What I mean is that there's a time and a place for interrogations about each other's past. I've got questions, you've got questions, but right now we're in the middle of a jungle. How about we agree to save them for later?"

"Sure, fine." she replied, just a tad irritated by how readily Zen acted like some sort of surrogate father. Like he knew her. Like Rembert did. No, no, shut up shut up shut up. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Good question." Zen stopped in midair, so abruptly that Arlinn was caught off guard. "I think it's about time you take point."

She laughed. "Ah. Yes. The person who has never been here will lead the way. Of course." But Zen just continued to smile, a little cocky smirk. "Wait, you're serious?"

He raised a finger in the air. "Lesson one. You're a planeswalker. You draw energy from the world around you, pulling in the mana – pure planar essence – from your surroundings and channeling it. Without mana, planeswalkers are practically powerless, no more extraordinary than any other person. Right now, we're looking for a temple, which happens to be constructed directly above a convergence of leylines. It's a mana hotspot, with enough concentration you should be able to find your way to it fairly easily."

Most of Zen's lecture went straight over Arlinn's head, but she felt fairly confident she could understand the gist of it. She could make magic out of world juice, and they were going to the place where the world juice was strong. "Okay, but I still have absolutely no idea what to even look for. Or, feel for. Or whatever the hell it is you're asking me to do."

"Well, you should probably stop talking and start feeling." he quipped back, leisurely floating a couple feet above the ground, stretching out into a reclined position. "You could start by closing your eyes and just letting your gut lead you."

"You are a just a wealth of helpful advice." Arlinn replied, making no effort to hide the sarcasm in her voice. But she did as he recommended, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She wasn't sure what precisely she should be feeling, but she did feel ridiculous. And Zen's quiet, "patient" humming nearby wasn't exactly helping matters. But she did her best to tune both him and her own thoughts out.

Arlinn wasn't a stranger to meditation. It was one of the ways she worked to suppress her curse, back on Innistrad. Prolonged sessions of quiet, uninterrupted silent focus, alongside the charms, herbs and incense. Even now, she still felt her curse, gnawing at her. Tempting her to give in. To lose control, even for a moment. To let it free.

Rembert's blade burned its way into her mind. 

But so did his smile. His hand on her shoulder. His quiet voice.

The sounds and smells of Ergamon slipped away. Zen's humming, the birds singing in the trees, the rustling of leaves all faded. Arlinn's eyes remained closed, but she could see something. A darkness. Not simply the inside of her eyelids, but a presence. Something immense, covered in a dark brown fur, with glowing red eyes and fangs that dripped saliva onto the ground.

Her curse stared at her. And Arlinn stared back.

It growled. Bared its teeth. Took a slow, deliberate step towards her. Then another.

Arlinn stood her ground, refusing to look away.

The beast snarled, it was nearly a foot away from her now.

"You ruined my life," she said. Her curse seemed rather taken aback at her statement, freezing mid-step, staring at her with a curious tilt.

Arlinn's hand curled into a fist. "You murdered an angel with my hands. You hurt my mentor. You ruined any chance I had at a happy life. You threw me out of my home and into some alien world."

Her curse barked, a sharp and impossibly loud noise, hackles raised, eyes like two burning coals. She did not flinch. She would not back down.

" _Run._ " said a quiet voice in her mind, a voice she couldn't place. " _It will kill you and wear your skin as a trophy. It is wild and angry and it hungers for your blood. Run. You need to run, Arlinn, you need to run NOW!_ "

"Like hell." Arlinn said. Then she wound up and punched her curse in face, sinking her fist squarely into its snout.

For a second, both the woman and the beast just looked at each other. Neither really seemed to register what Arlinn had just done. Then it whimpered, stumbling backwards, dropping onto its belly and cradling its surely broken snout. She stared down at it, at the thing that had so long consumed her every waking thought, had filled her dreams with terror. Her knuckles dripped with its blood. And it stared up at her with such a pathetic expression, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"I'll kill you," she said, "if I have to. I don't want to. It’d probably kill me too. But if it's between that or lose myself to you, I'd rather die."

The curse was still, as if contemplating her words. Then, unsteadily, it rose, back onto all four paws, turned and lumbered off into the dark.

Arlinn's eyes snapped open. Ergamon flared back into existence. And, alongside the sights and sounds she had left, was something else. Something indescribable in the air, weaving a trail through the trees. "I know where to go."

"Really?" Zen asked. “I’m surprised. That was quicker than I expected.”

Arlinn was already walking by the time she responded. "Yeah, I'm a fast learner."

 

It was the late afternoon by the time they reached the temple, a rock structure with steps on all sides, much taller than any building Arlinn had ever seen, religious or otherwise. It was a pale red, sunbleached and overgrown with vines, long abandoned.

"Anything I should expect to be at the top?" she asked as she climbed. "I'd prefer to avoid any more unpleasant surprises."

"As would I. But nevertheless, expect nothing. It's more fun that way." Zen said.

Arlinn chuckled. "I thought you said we weren't here for fun."

"I said we weren't here just to see the sights. There's nothing wrong with having fun and learning at the same time."

"So now you're a schoolteacher and a philosopher?"

He scoffed. "I am many things, Miss Kord. Live as long as I have, and you'll be the same."

"Maybe, but I probably won't be as much of a show-off about it." she quipped back, laughing at the subsequent glare he sent her way.

Arlinn dragged her aching legs up the last few steps and paused, both to catch her breath and to take in the sight. The top of the temple was rather plain, flat and relatively unornamented. Any carvings that had marked the surface had long since faded. Apart from the five softly glowing five-foot or so tall crystals arranged in a wide ring floating inches above the rock, the temple roof was pretty bland.

"What're these?" she said, motioning to the crystals.

"I'm not sure exactly what they're called, none of these etchings are well-enough preserved to be legible. But what I can tell you is that they are powerful. Whatever civilization lived here managed to find a way to crystalize pure mana into this form."

"And that's an impressive feat, I assume."

He sighed. "Nothing short of a miracle. What I wouldn't give to learn their process."

Arlinn took a few steps towards the nearest crystal, its surface jet-black. It was shiny, polished, despite being apparently very old. "So, why are we here?"

"Look a little closer and you'll find out." 

Arlinn looked over her shoulder at Zen, raising an eyebrow, but he just gestured back to the crystals. She rolled her eyes. Fine, she'd play along. She gave the crystal a once-over, unsure of what exactly Zen wanted her to see. It was nice looking. Mostly opaque, but clear enough that she could barely see the inside, which looked to be made of some sort of smokey substance. It almost seemed to move under her gaze. Wait, no, it wasn't at all static. The inside of the crystal was fluid and swirling, like murky water, rippling and undulating. Then, it cleared.

_The cemeteries of Innistrad, zombies rising from the dirt and shambling towards a township. Arlinn felt the power of undeath flowing through her, she was immortal, untouchable. She sat atop an ebony throne, surrounded by her dark army, a shadow crossing over the surface of the moon..._

The visions faded. Arlinn realized she had been reaching out for the crystal, and pulled back, alarmed. "What the hell-"

"I take it the crystal didn't accept you? Makes sense, I suppose. Black doesn't seem your color."

She whirled towards the spirit, furious. "Zen, you need to explain what that was, right now."

He sighed. "I've already told you, each of these stones is a crystallized mass of mana–"

"You never said anything about visions."

Zen shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. "Fair enough, fair enough." He put up two fingers. "Lesson two, then. There are five different kinds of mana, each best represented by a certain color. White, Blue, Black, Red and Green. Each alignment of mana has its strengths and weaknesses when channeled, and each planeswalker will only truly be able to make use of mana that aligns with their nature." As he spoke, Zen held out both hands, palm up. Mist began to rise from his ghostly flesh, spiraling into two orbs, each of which hovered above one of his palms. "For example, my nature best allows me to channel White and Blue mana." The mist glowed, one orb white and the other blue. "Knowing that helps me grasp my own limits. It wouldn't do much for me to try to conjure up flame, for example, but I'm naturally gifted at healing magic."

"And you want to learn my nature." Arlinn said, more of a statement than a question. "So you can train me for what I'm going to be good at."

"Yes." Zen dismissed the two orbs with a flick of his wrist, the mist dispersing in an instant. "Not just me though, it's important for you to know your own nature."

"And these crystals help with that...how?"

"These stones will attempt to bond with you, they're inclined to, the mana inside them naturally wants to be channelled and you just happen to be a conduit. It'll push up against you, and if your nature matches, you and it will be drawn together. But if your natures don't match, it'll be repelled, and so will you."

"So, what, I just get close and let it mess with my head until it figures out if I'm a good fit?" she snapped.

Zen sighed. "It's not alive Arlinn. It's not reading your thoughts. It's just sending you ideas, feelings, and your mind puts images to those feelings."

"Ugh, fine, it's useless arguing with you." She turned away, feeling a tad bit guilty for her own outburst, despite herself. She walked past the black crystal and up to the red one, sticking her hand out. "Let's get this over-”

_She couldn't even finish her sentence before flame flared through her veins. All at once, the evening chill vanished from her skin, the exhaustion seeped from her bones, Arlinn was filled with an energy like liquid fire. Pictures flashed before her retinas, running through the forest, the thrill of sparring with Rembert, writing poetry in her room at night, adrenaline kicking into overdrive as she rushed headfirst into-_

"Woah." Arlinn felt the smooth crystal on her hand, barely registering the way it glowed like a bonfire. In fact, she felt a lot of things. Invigorated. Awake. Manic. Ready to move and act and DO something. She took a step back, letting her fingertips part from the crystal's surface. The stone dulled, but the fire in her gut still burned.

"So, how was it?." Zen remarked, and Arlinn could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Shut up." she grumbled half-heartedly, turning away so he couldn't see her grinning. Exhilarating. She wasted no time crossing moving to the next crystal, this time the blue one. Arlinn reached out her hand.

_Full, unmatched lucidity hit her like a slap in the face, as if a bucket of cold water had been upended over her head. She could see herself in the archmage study, pouring over books of charms, and-_

The feeling faded with a surprising haste. She could feel the repulsion nearly instantly, as if the air between her and the crystal had hardened. "Guess blue isn't in my nature either."

"Guess not."

She turned to the penultimate stone, an ivory crystal, and her heart skipped a beat. Arlinn couldn't place the feeling, but she was suddenly anxious. She reached out an uneasy hand, and the stone sparked to life.

_Light. Brilliant light. Shining and bright and benevolent. An angel's feather floated to her on the breeze, Arlinn lying on her back in the field outside her home, peace washing over her. She could hear a voice coming to her, Avacyn's voice, asking her-_

The air around the stone had hardened. Arlinn froze. Then she pushed. The stone pushed back, a spark flickering through the air and through her arm, sending a jolt of pain through her. It would not budge. But neither would the Archmage. She braced herself, then slowly – excruciatingly – pressed her hand to the surface of the stone.

_Her world was burning. Every nerve was ignited. She felt more pain than at any point in her life. But Arlinn bared it, pushing harder, staring at the crystal with a stubborn determination. She was an Archmage. She would not abandon her destiny, she would not refuse her calling._

_she was burning_

She was an Archmage.

_she was going to die_

She. Was. An. Archmage.

Something laughed in her mind. " _But you aren't one._ "

A blinding white flash. Arlinn flew backwards. Her head cracked against the temple stone.

She stared up at the darkening sky, motionless.

She had failed.

Zen's muffled voice, calling her name, asking if she was okay, drifted lackadaisically through her hazy unawareness.

"I'm fine." she said, pushing off the ground. Sitting up was a mistake. Her skull reminded her quite clearly and painfully that it had just been smashed into very unforgiving stone, and Arlinn let out a long string of expletives, clutching the back of her head. When she took her hand away, it was covered in blood. "Ow." felt like the understatement of the year.

"Take it easy, that was a hell of a tumble." Zen reached out, his hand glowing, and pressed his ethereal palm against her forehead. Soothing relief washed over her, pain fading.

Arlinn blinked, touching the back of her head again. No sting. No blood. She stared at the spirit. "You weren't kidding. That is some pretty good healing magic."

He smiled softly. "It is what I'm best at. Well, that and cartography."

She didn’t smile back. "I failed."

"I'd hardly say that," he said quietly, "this isn't exactly a test you can fail."

"But I did fail." She laughed, dryly, bitterly. "I managed to mess up being the only person I was supposed to be."

Zen was silent for a moment. "Arlinn-"

"No, no. I get it. I can't be someone I'm not." He nodded, soft and sympathetic and pitying. She looked away. "I can't be someone I'm not." Arlinn rose.

One crystal left, green. She walked up to it and placed her hand out. It sparked, igniting with a deep glow, casting dim shadows across the temple's surface.

_Arlinn could feel the forest. She could smell the rabbit rustling in the bushes a couple hundred feet in front of her, hear its fearful tapping against the ground, see it pause and swivel around to stare right at her. It bolted, and she bounded after it. The Ulvenwald burst into life around her, trees flying by, her claws digging into the dirt, every fraction of her being filled to the brim with feral **NO**_

She pulled away, clutching her hand to her chest as if burned. The crystal's glow faded, and she swear it seemed almost disappointed with her. "No." She forced a laugh, turning back to Zen. "Looks like green isn't for me."

He stared at her. Stared through her. "Arlinn."

"What?" she snapped back. "It rejected me. Not my fault it doesn't-"

"You said you can't be someone you aren't. But you also can't not be someone you are."

Arlinn scoffed. "Who are you trying to be, my dad? I guess you’re halfway there, he’s dead too.” She regretted the words the moment they left her lips, less for how they might hurt Zen and more for the fact that they stung in her throat, left tears burning at the edges of her eyes. "You just met me, Zen," she said after a short pause, "how could you possibly know who I am?"

"I don't," he replied quietly, "But you do. Whatever you're afraid of seeing in there, it's part of who you are. You can't abandon that."

She turned away from him, staring at the crystal. It still glowed, dimly, waiting for her. Arlinn walked up to it. Two red eyes stared from within its depths.

She pressed her hand to its surface and braced herself to fall back into the wild.

And the wild fell into her.

 

"You still haven't told me what I'm going to be capable of," Arlinn said, "being 'Red and Green natured' and whatever else that entails." It was night. Arlinn and Zen sat on opposite sides of a small fire she had started at the base of the temple. They had not spoken much since the earlier confrontation.

"Every planeswalker is different," he replied, "even those with the same nature. I can't tell you for sure how your abilities will manifest, only how to get close enough to discover that for yourself."

"Can you tell me anything for sure?"

He chuckled. "Archetypes, I suppose."

She smiled back. "Enlighten me then, oh ethereal sage."

Zen rolled his eyes, playfully exasperated. "Fine, I suppose." He cleared his throat with a tad of unnecessary melodrama. "Red mana generally follows the flow of least resistance. Or at least, a path it feels is worthwhile traveled. Red manifests as flame, lightning, heat and energy and explosive potential. It is often destructive, but not often intentionally so, it just has a tendency to travel through obstacles rather than around them. Green, on the other hand, seeks the natural path. It is creation, inception, life and subsequent death. It seeks a balance of all natural things, an equilibrium where existence and absence can seamlessly feed and become the other. In the process though, it eschews progress. Green has no love for technology or magic, it refuses to interact with what it sees as unnatural except when utterly unavoidable."

"So," Arlinn said with a quiet chuckle, "what I'm getting is somewhere in between 'wild destructive beast' and 'literal forest fire.'"

"Or compassionate companion. Inspired druid. Familial guardian. Environmental activist."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see then, won't we?" Arlinn lay back, resting her head on her interlocking fingers and stared up at the sky. Ergamon might not have been home, but the stars were still just as beautiful. She wondered if Innistrad wasn't up there somewhere, hanging among the other sparkling pinpricks of light.

"I suppose so." He paused, and then laughed. "Well, I suppose that's enough fun for one day. We'll train more in the morning. Goodnight Arlinn."

"Goodnight Zen."

 

Something was pulling Arlinn's hand. She looked up at it, at her mother. She didn't remember what her mother looked like, she knew that in the back of her mind, Arlinn had only known her when she was far too young to remember. This formless amalgam, devoid of identification, was nevertheless familiar to her. No name, no distinctive feature, only an idea, an abstraction of maternal form. They ran together through the house, in sudden bursts of movement, down the hall and up the stairs. Arlinn felt no pressure, her feet barely brushed against the floor, but her heart still pounded in her chest. She looked behind her, staring at the scrambling form of something else, a swirling mass of darkness and claws and fur. Death. And it was following them.

The house burned. Flames lapped at her heels. Her mother, beating back the beast. Arlinn fell backwards, pushed, out of danger, falling. There was a spark, a momentary flare of clarity. Falling. Locks of brown hair. Snarling. Screaming. Her mother's cry. Blood-streaked, matted fur. Falling. Two green eyes, staring at her, wide and fearful. Two young eyes. A girl. Not her. Arlinn tumbled backwards, the house peeling away around her, darkness edging out the corners of her vision. The girl stood there, staring at the beast before her, the beast that still held her mother's limp corpse in its mouth. The girl looked at Arlinn. Mouthed her name.

"Help."

Arlinn opened her eyes. It was morning. The dream was fresh in her mind; heart still pounded in her chest, mother's screams still echoed in her ears, the face of the girl still burned its way into her thoughts. She sat up. The fire had long gone out, now just a pile of blackened sticks and ash. Zen hovered nearby, cross-legged and eyes closed, in some sort of deep meditation. He didn't need to sleep, Arlinn supposed, yet another benefit of his not-quite-life. She shook her head, massaging with her fingers the anxious knot that had formed in her chest. Now that she was awake, it wouldn't be long before the dream left her, the old memories flowed back out of her conscious mind. It was funny though, the screams felt closer than particular, almost as if she could still hear them, far off and faint, but –

"Help! Someone, please, help me!"

Arlinn froze. Then, with barely a moment's hesitation, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted towards the sound. Her legs screamed at her, she stumbled but she stayed upright, mind still struggling to keep up with her instincts. She was less running than falling, constantly falling forward, just able to keep one foot in front of the other. For a moment, her thoughts drifted back to Zen, maybe she should turn and get him, Arlinn didn't have a clue what she was rushing into, how dangerous it might be.

A root smashed into her ankle and she tumbled forwards, rolling out of instinct and pushing herself up and onwards. No thoughts, she reminded herself, no time for hesitation or planning. She just needed to move.

A roar, deep and feral, from up ahead. Arlinn adjusted her course, flinging herself over a downed tree and sliding across a bed of leaves. Another cry, a resounding crash, both from direct center, a clearing through the trees, she wove past branches and trunks, hurtling into the open area with a haste soon punished by the massive tail that swung towards her.

Arlinn, as gracefully as could be managed while transitioning out of a full-tilt sprint, flung herself to the ground as the appendage whipped through the air just inches above her head. The tail's owner was a creature not unlike the behemoths she had seen in the distance wandering through the Uvenwald in her childhood, although thankfully about a quarter of the size. It was still much larger than she was, nearly the dimensions of a two story house, covered in scales, with a thin, long whip-like tail. A ring of five eyes dominated the majority of its surprisingly flat face, with seemingly every other available area taken up by its gnashing maw of a mouth. Arlinn couldn't even begin to count the teeth, nor did she much want to.

And, standing across the clearing from her, about as far from the beast as the beast was from Arlinn, was a woman. She was dark-skinned, dressed in a dull purple cloth which had probably been very elegant at one point, but was now stained with dirt and blood, and quite tattered. The woman was slowly limping towards the trees, looking fearfully between the beast and Arlinn as if unsure of which presented a greater immediate danger. The beast itself seemed equally torn, though likely evaluating taste rather than threat, which of the two women would be best.

And Arlinn, for one, wasn't about to let it abandon the opportunity for a new and adventurous flavor of edible person-snack. A snarl bubbled out of her, anything to draw the creature’s attention. The beast's head snapped to stare at her, gaping maw dripping globs of saliva onto the ground. The woman wasted no time making a break for it, hobbling out of sight without so much as thanking her savior. Oh well. Thankless or not, kicking this thing's teeth was a dirty job and someone had to do it. Arlinn kept her stance low, ready at a moment's notice to act.

The beast moved first, with commendable speed, barely giving its prey a moment to react before leaping at her, mouth-first. But that moment was enough. Arlinn dove sideways, just out of reach, so close she could smell the thing's breath as it slammed its face into the ground she stood on moments earlier. She grinned, ducking under its feeble attempt to swipe at her. Arlinn might have been on the defensive, but she felt entirely untouchable. Every movement it made was sluggish compared to her senses, she could see each blow coming from a mile of away. Something was off though, a feeling of unease ate at the back of her mind, she couldn't quite place it though. She shook it off, no point second-guessing herself. No thought, only movement. Only action. Only feeling. Visceral and powerful.

She saw her opening. A perfect, Arlinn-sized gap between its strikes, an opportunity. And she took it. Arlinn ducked under a swinging claw, vaulted a tail and found herself right below its underbelly. She could see its scales were weaker here, lighter and more susceptible. So she struck back, slashing three deep gashes in its side. Its flesh gave little resistance, splitting like paper, scales crunching, twisting as she tore them asunder.

The beast roared, stumbling sideways, then collapsing with a sound like a fallen tree. It tried to struggle back up, blood gushing from her handiwork, but she didn't give it a chance to recover. Arlinn smashed into its neck at full force, feeling the crunch of some unknown bones, and bared her fangs, sinking them deep into its throat. It was like biting into an apple, though hardly as sweet. The beast wailed and squirmed as she held tight, refusing to let up. Blood spurted into her mouth. She was a single mind, one all-encompassing intention. The doubt edged at her awareness still, something was wrong, something was off.

The curse.

It hit Arlinn like a slap to the face. She let go, pulling back from the beast, though her work had already been done. Blood poured from the holes she had punctured, the flesh she had razed, staining a dark patch into grass beneath it. Thoughts rushed at light speed through her mind, one after another, trying to piece it all together. Her senses more heightened than ever before. The fearful look of the other woman. Her feral snarl. Claws. Fangs. Blood, sickly sweet ichor.

Sometime between the moment she woke up and the moment she entered the clearing, her curse had taken hold. Arlinn had transformed, without even realizing it, and now stood – in a pool of blood – as a fully lucid wolf.

And that was what most confused her. Not that she had transformed, but that she was able to even realize it in the first place. Her curse had taken over, but somehow she felt neither the pangs of primal hunger nor the burning desire for violence. It was nothing like that night, nothing like the fury she had felt before. If this curse was a flame, it was a cold flame now, burning blue and sharp, refined. She was in control. Somehow, against all possibility, she was in control.

Arlinn didn't fully know what to do about that. A part of her wanted to run, wanted to be free and wild and just let go, as she had before. But instead, she sat down, letting herself just feel the flame of her curse lapping at her insides. She listened to the birds in the trees, the rustling of nearby animals, let the scents of Ergamon fill her nose with information. So much noise. So much wonder. She closed her eyes and allowed it to wash over her, wave after wave of refined and powerful experience. Arlinn breathed in, breathed out, focused on her breath. The world around her quieted, sounds and smells of the wild subsided. The flame inside her wilted, flickered, and finally went out.

She opened her eyes. She was human again. And acutely aware of the fact that she was stark naked, covered in blood, sitting mere feet away from the corpse of a massive animal. Avacyn, the day had barely started and it was already probably the strangest she'd ever had.

Arlinn jumped as a hand quite inexplicably manifested on her shoulder, not even having the time to see the hand's owner before they threw some sort of fabric over her. A net? No, wait, a cloak. Purple. Tattered, but still intact. She wrapped it gratefully around herself, looking up at the softly smiling face of the woman from earlier. From this distance, Arlinn could see the woman was distinctly unfamiliar, with sharp features unlike any she had seen previously, and ears that both ended in points. Whoever she was, she seemed barely older than Arlinn, but her eyes were old, tired. Without her cloak, she had on a only a loose-fitting tan garment, plain and unassuming.

"Thank you." Arlinn said. The woman only nodded before turning and leaving, making her way back into the woods and vanishing between the trees.

 

When Zen opened his eyes again, Arlinn was poking at the embers of their fire with a long stick, still wrapped in the strange woman's cloak and covered in now dry blood. He stared at her, stared at her cloak, then back at Arlinn. "What happened?"

"I transformed," she said, still simply staring at the embers. Zen raised an eyebrow.

"The wolf again?"

"Yes. I killed a beast and saved some woman from being eaten. This is her cloak. She's fine, before you ask. I didn't hurt her."

"Well, that's good, I suppose."

"It was different this time. I could control it. I was feral, but I could control it. I was even able to transform back when I chose to."

"I presume that's not normal."

She laughed. "Try 'not possible.' Werewolves aren't supposed to be able to control themselves when transformed, let alone transform at will."

"And yet," he said, smiling, "you've managed to do both."

Arlinn shrugged. "Somehow. I don't even know if this was a one-time occurrence though, maybe the next time I lose control I won't be so lucky."

Zen shook his head. "I don't think so. Planeswalkers are capable of some pretty impossible things under intense pressure, but from the look of things, you hardly exerted yourself here. If such an ability comes simply to you now that your spark has ignited, I'd expect you'll only get more control over your curse with time. And practice."

Arlinn was quiet for a moment. "Ironic."

"How so?"

"I only found out I was a planeswalker after losing control, murdering an angel and attacking my friends. And now being a planeswalker lets me control my transformations, lets me turn right back into the thing that ripped a holy protector to shreds in a fit of rage?" She let out a dry laugh. "The universe has a pretty cruel sense of humor."

Zen chuckled. "You're telling me."

"Yeah? You finally going to tell me your sad backstory?"

He rolled his eyes. "Only you tell me yours first."

She scoffed. "What, are we twelve?"

"When you're comfortable enough to share your past with me, I'll share mine with you. This is not a one-way street."

"Fine, fine, I'll give you my baggage first." She stuck the fire-poking stick into the dirt. "I grew up in a town called Avabruck. I barely knew my parents. My father disappeared before I was born. My mother and sister died in an attack on the town by the Mondred howlpack, a group of werewolves who saw Avabruck as part of their territory. My house was burned to the ground. Without any family left to speak of, I spent the rest of my childhood in the town orphanage. I was not very easy to handle. I was angry, rebelled, attacked other children when they pushed me. I hurt others so they couldn't hurt me. One night, when I was seventeen, I tried to run away. I made it into the forest before blacking out. When I woke up, I was covered in blood, wounded and holed up underneath the roots of a tree. I made my way back to town, and everyone assumed I had been attacked by a werewolf. Which, I guess I was. It was only later that I really started to piece everything together." 

Arlinn paused, swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat. She wasn't accustomed to being so open, so upfront about her past. "Werewolves pass their curse on through a ritual called the First Hunt. They howl together, and the song they make is...hypnotic. Anyone without an iron will gets pulled in, lose themselves, and are made to hunt alongside the pack. Then, they take on the curse. I must have been close enough to the howls to be dragged into the hunt, but ended up attacking the other werewolves after I transformed. Either way, it helped my story that at least some of the blood on me was my own."

"Helped your story?"

"Zen...werewolves don't exactly have many life options available. You either pretend to be human or join a howlpack. If anyone finds out you're a werewolf, assuming you aren't murdered on sight, you'll probably be turned into a mindless servant for the rest of your life. Honestly, I'm not sure which is worse. And I wasn't exactly keen to signing up as a member of the pack that murdered most of my family. So I suppressed. I prayed, meditated, fasted, took herbs, studied charms. Any time the curse tried to take control, I hid myself and pushed it down, refused to let it guide me. I studied in the Church of Avacyn, the very people whose holy duty it is to exterminate werewolves, just to best equip myself in methods of control. While there, I met a man named Rembert, who eventually became my mentor. And, I suppose, the closest thing I had to a friend. Even a father." She laughed. "Not that he'd see it that way now. Considering the last time we saw each other, I turned into a beast and sliced his face open."

Zen nodded. "And then your spark ignited."

"Yeah. Rembert was about to cut me in half. Hell, I was going to let him. But I guess some part of me wasn't ready to die. So I vanished. Next thing I knew, I'm waking up in your house."

Zen scratched his chin. "Hmm."

"What?"

"How wounded were you when you planeswalked? Do you remember?"

She raised an eyebrow. Odd question. "Not much. Probably more than I realized, but I don't remember being in much pain."

He nodded. "I think you might be missing something."

"Like what?"

"Well, what confuses me is how I found you in the first place."

"I was wondering about that."

"That day, I was alerted to a large wolf rampaging through a downtown marketplace, attacking the denizens and generally causing disruption. No one was hurt, thankfully, but it was still beyond the shopkeepers’ capability to handle, so they asked me to help. When I found you, you were wounded beyond description, dripping blood all over the market. After I knocked you out, you transformed back to human, so I decided to treat your injuries and help you recover. But what peaks my interest is the fact that your wounds weren't from Kyneth."

Arlinn blinked. "What?"

"Some of them were days old, scabbed over. You had fangs lodged in your skin that didn't match any animal on the plane. As well, I talked to every person in that market, and all of them swear you were that badly hurt when you showed up. From what they told me, you simply manifested out of thin air, injured from head to toe."

Her mind spun, trying to make sense of his words. "So you're telling me I, what, planeswalked twice?"

He shrugged. "You tell me. All I know is you didn't go right from Innistrad to Kyneth. There was a point in between, of at least a few days, where you were in another plane entirely."

"What plane!?" she spluttered.

"If anyone knows the answer to that question," Zen replied dryly, "it'd be you."

A silence fell between them. When Arlinn finally broke it, she said simply "I don't remember."

Zen sighed. "I'm sorry. It's cruel of me to push you to remember a likely very unpleasant experience. I shouldn't try to...fix you. I'm sorry."

Arlinn nodded, but didn't meet his gaze. "Yeah. Apology accepted. Now spill."

He laughed. "Right, right. Sorry. Yes, I suppose I did promise." Zen sighed, lowering his gaze to the simmering embers. A cloud passed over the sun, the entire area around them darkening somewhat.

"It was many, many years ago. Decades, possibly even centuries, I don't know exactly. I was alive then, and young, my spark had just ignited. Tenacious, headstrong and constantly looking for trouble. I met a friend, another young planeswalker, and we became a close pair. He was from Kyneth, I from a plane called Ioxor. We swore not only to be protectors of our own planes, but also of each other's. He would defend Ioxor to his dying breath if it came to it, and I would gladly give my live for Kyneth. Unfortunately, we had to make true on that promise." His voice caught and he cleared his throat. "Sorry. It’s difficult to bring up unpleasant memories."

Arlinn nodded. "No kidding. You can take a second if you want"

"No, I'm alright. Thank you." Zen took a deep breath. "One day, while I was caught up in an adventure away from home, a creature from beyond the plane found its way to Ioxor. My friend fought it, but he didn't stand a chance. It killed him, slaughtered every living thing it could find and ripped the very plane in half."

A shudder ran up her spine. "There are things out there that can do that?"

"Yes. Thankfully, very few. You're not likely to encounter one."

"I would hope not."

He smiled softly, for a moment or two. "Anyway, I returned to find my home annihilated. Gone. My best friend dead. And, of course, I blamed myself. So I swore I would track down the thing that destroyed my home, and kill it."

"Did you?"

He laughed. "Well, I certainly tried. After a lengthy search, I found myself face to face with it. But, even at my strongest, I couldn't kill it. The best I could do was wound it, sever a part of it and force it to retreat, injured but not dead. And then, I let myself die." Zen closed his eyes. "I heard a tale once, on my travels, that planeswalkers were once immortal and all-powerful. But we are definitely not such anymore. Nevertheless, somehow, I was able to preserve a fraction of my power in this form. Nothing more than an echo."

"So you protect Kyneth now. To honor your friend's memory?"

"Yes. Something like that."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a very long time. "Your friend, what was his name?"

Zen took a few seconds to respond. “Althar. His name was Althar.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

"For?"

"For being open with me, I suppose. And offering to teach me in the first place."

He grinned. "Well, of course. We aren't nearly done though, I hope you realize that. You, Miss Kord, have quite a lot left to learn."

"Well then," she stood, brushing herself off, "let's get started."

 

Arlinn looked over the Ulvenwald. The familiar scent of pine filled her nostrils, the sound of far off crows cawing their morning cacophony. "How long has it been?" she whispered.

"Years." said the spirit next to her. "Wait, sorry, you weren't talking to me, were you?"

"It's fine, Zen." she said with a laugh. "It just...it feels good to be home. I've missed this place."

"So, what's your plan?" he asked. “Where does Arlinn Kord go from here?”

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. Go talk to Rembert, I suppose. See if time hasn't weathered his opinion of me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't want to rejoin the Archmages."

"I don't. I just...want to see him. He's like my father, Zen, or at least he was. Even if he doesn't forgive me, I still need to apologize to him. For no one else's sake but mine."

"I understand." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Stay safe, Arlinn."

She sighed, gently pushing his hand off. "You could stay, you know. It's not as if spirits are out of place in Innistrad."

Zen smiled softly. "I have my own plane to take care of. Kyneth needs me."

"Yes, I know." Arlinn turned to Zen, forcing a smile back. "I'll visit."

"Please do. I could use the company."

Teacher and student shared a laugh, an embrace, and then there was one. Arlinn took a breath, filling her lungs with Innistrad air. "It's good to be home." she repeated, almost as if trying to convince herself. "It's good to be home."


End file.
